


Under Our Feet

by PinkTea



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dark Magic, Hayseed Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, M/M, Rating May Change, be warned of the bugs, lots of bugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkTea/pseuds/PinkTea
Summary: He was alive at some point. He had a life of his own, somewhere far away from this lonely place.





	1. After the Rain

Filthy fingers and toes curled against the cool earth. A raspy, unearthly sound escaped the throat of the straw man, content as he sat cross-legged in the moist dirt.

Mako watched him from the porch of the old farmhouse, a warm cup of coffee held delicately in one massive hand. It was curious how still the scarecrow could sit, kept entertained by the serenity of barren fields after a rain storm. His stillness could be deathlike, making him seem more like a regular scarecrow than a thing possessing will of its own. Mako was used to the creature constantly babbling and jumping around like mad, but sensory stimulation seemed to make him calm and satiated. 

A beetle crawled up the scarecrow's ankle, tiny legs tickling and brushing against his cold and rotting flesh. Metal creaked as his eyes shifted to stare at it, bending to get a closer look. The light of his eyes glinted off of its shiny black shell, and he felt horribly tempted to eat it. The scarecrow raised his single functioning hand, tentatively reaching for it before taking a quick glance back at Mako, who still stood watching. Mako didn't seem fond of his affinity for bugs (and eating them), for whatever reason. The large man felt the stare of the creature burn into him, though not unfriendly and no longer uncomfortable. After spending a few months with him, Mako was certain that the thing meant no harm, although it looked uninviting. Mako himself wasn't any kinder-looking.

The light behind the straw man's goggles flickered, as if he were blinking, tilting his head to the side innocently. Maintaining eye contact, in one swift motion he pushed the squirming beetle into the gaping hole of his mask and directly into where Mako supposed his mouth was hidden.

“ _Hayseed_ ,” Mako rumbled, annoyed. Hayseed- that's what Mako had taken to calling the odd fellow. He couldn't say he was all that creative about it, but he would feel wrong to give a human name to something he figured already had one, although forgotten. Hayseed giggled cheekily in response, an uneven and odd sound, before turning back to stare happily at the earth. 

The air was heavy with cool moisture after a nighttime storm, the rising sun hidden behind the rung-out clouds. Dim light pierced through to illuminate the barren and dead crop fields, masked under a thickening layer of tall weeds and other invading plants. The old cross where Hayseed used to hang stood tall over the invaders, no longer having any crops to protect, deteriorating.

The house wasn't very pleasant either, but it was enough. An old structure stripped of paint blended in with the dead fields nicely. Mako wasn't a very picky man, especially not now.

Evading the authorities was becoming an increasingly difficult task, after so many years of crime. He was starting to feel old, honestly. Forty-eight isn't young anymore. He needed someplace to crash and be safe- at least for now, until he decided what to do with himself. Anywhere would do, and this cheap old lot was appealing. Out in the middle of nowhere, just outside of a small town where he could buy essentials, and... calm. Relaxing. Not much like his lifestyle before, but he could use a change, probably. To be honest, things started to feel less fulfilling. A mid-life crisis? He wasn't sure, but didn't dwell on it.

There wasn't much time to quietly reflect, anyway. Even though a place like this seemed like a typical location for self-evaluation, he was only alone for a couple days before exploring the property and finding Hayseed up on the cross guarding nothing but weeds. In all his life he'd never seen something as abnormal as a living corpse bundled up in hay and sparks, and his first impulse was to kill it; which he ended up not acting upon. Instead he untied Hayseed from his post and somehow managed to accept him living on the property with him. Mako thought about running Hayseed off with a broom or something, but Hayseed always stuck near the fields and refused to leave it for a long period of time without getting upset, so being driven away would likely not stick well with him. Even entering the house for longer than an hour at the time made him agitated and volatile, which Mako realized when he tried to lock him inside during a storm. Mako didn't know what the straw man was in the first place, maybe he could give him some deadly curse or something. He figured it would be better not to do anything to seriously upset the creature.

When he had taken Hayseed down from his post, the thing was inexplicably missing an arm and a leg. Although kindness wasn't generally in his nature, Mako fashioned him a simple peg leg to help him get around without floundering in the mud. Hayseed was filthy enough as it is. The arm, though- that's a different story, and Mako's hands were too large to do intricate work on something like a prosthetic, especially given that he had no idea where to start. What would Hayseed do with two arms, anyway? Eat more bugs than usual? He's fine with one, Mako decided.

Mako took a final sip from his coffee, emptying the cup. He stared out and the empty land and hills, embracing the quiet. Exhaling a loud and rumbling breath, he started towards Hayseed.

Hayseed didn't look up until Mako was right behind him, giving the giant man a curt wave. “G'mornin', mate,” he greeted in an only barely human-like voice. It echoed and reverberated, an oddly mechanical sound.

Mako made a sound of acknowledgment, eyeing Hayseed's dirt-caked fingernails and toenails. He'd been digging again recently. The large man figured he was probably looking for worms or something similarly gross. “You're filthy.”

“Yup,” he snickered, raising his dirty hand and moving to wipe it on Mako's shirt. His hand was swatted away, but not before he succeeded, and Mako made an irritated grumble.

“Asshole.” 

Turning away again, Hayseed dug his fingers into the earth again. A purr-like sound rose from his throat, and he shot a cheerful glance at Mako. “It's nice. The dirt, after rain. It feels alive.”

As Mako thought, he was fiddling around with mud for sensory fulfillment. He didn't respond, frowning disapprovingly. Hayseed was dirtier than usual and sopping wet from spending the night outdoors. Mako often insisted he come inside during harsh weather, but the scarecrow wouldn't accept overnight invitations- his field was more important, not that there was anything to defend. Hayseed's affinity with the land was puzzling, to say the least.

The hay poking out of Hayseed's overalls was sopping and gross, smelling heavy and likely to grow more decay. Mako sighed in annoyance, reaching down to grab the scarecrow's stump of an arm. “Come on. You've got to clean up.”

“Aw, fuck you,” Hayseed garbled, blowing a raspberry behind his mask. Despite his verbal complaining, he didn't resist being pulled to his feet and hobbling beside Mako towards the house. The first time he tried rinsing off Hayseed had been disastrous and ended with the huge man covered in scratches and bruises, but since then the creature had grown to like the feeling of warm water. Still, though, he wouldn't let Mako do more than clean the grime from his arms and legs. Mako figured he was just trying to keep filthy to annoy him.

The screen door was pushed open and Hayseed let himself in, stomping particularly hard to let crusty mud fall from him and onto the wooden floor. He shot a look at Mako, cheekily waiting for a response, but Mako only huffed.

“You're cleaning that,” Mako stated, ushering Hayseed to the sink with his massive hand as he set the coffee cup on the table. 

“Mmkay,” Hayseed chirped. He was troublesome, but not lazy. He placed his hand under the faucet expectantly, staring at the other man.

Turning on the warm water and rubbing Hayseed's grimy hand, Mako watched the caked dirt swirl away. He was gentle over Hayseed's stitches, unsure what would happen if he accidentally ripped them open, but scrubbed enough to get the filth out from the crevices. A few parasitic insects vanished down the drain. Drying the arm off with a washcloth, Mako gestured at the sink.

“Up,” he instructed.

Hayseed used Mako's massive body as leverage to hop up on the counter, putting his foot in the sink and wiggling his toes. Mako repeated the process, Hayseed sometimes giggling as if he were ticklish. 

Afterwards, he used a wet washcloth to scrub off his shoulders, and Hayseed relaxed under his touch. What a spoiled baby.

“Done!” Hayseed declared, darting out from Mako's grasp before he was anywhere near clean. He smelled horrible, Mako noted. Ugh.

“No,” Mako grunted, holding up the washcloth and starting to get ticked off. “C'mere.” 

The scarecrow made an unhappy sound but came close again, this time wrapping his arm as far as it could go around Mako, burying his face in the large man's chest. His goggles were sharp against Mako's clothed body, and he grunted. 

It was then that Mako took note of the wretched smell coming from Hayseed's hidden face. It was like rotted and charred flesh masked under a thick smell of mildew. He let out a huff of air, wishing suddenly that he was wearing his own mask to protect himself from the stench. It was vomit-inducing.

That's quite enough of that, he resolved, grabbing Hayseed's hay ponytail and pulling him back a bit. Hayseed chirped in confusion, looking up at him questioningly. Without explanation, Mako used his free hand to begin pulling hay from the gaping mouth of his mask, letting it fall to the floor.

As Hayseed realized what Mako was doing, he let out a horrific sound of terror that resembled gears grinding and screeching. He thrashed, nails digging into Mako's side and making him grunt in annoyance.

“Shut up,” he muttered, grabbing bigger clumps of hay. The faster he got this over with, the better. The hay was wet between his fingers, smelling of death.

“Stop, stop,” Hayseed pleaded, his voice different somehow. His head whipped from side to side as he tried to free himself, but he was nowhere near strong enough to get away.

Mako saw a nose peek out, pale and freckled. So he _did_ have a face under there. “Stop moving,” he growled, annoyed. He found himself oddly curious as to what he would find under there. After living with someone for so long, it was weird to have never seen his face, although Mako himself was partial to mask-wearing.

Grit teeth were revealed, filthy and crooked. Some were golden, signs of dental work. He was alive at some point. He had a life of his own, somewhere far away from this lonely place.

“Please, stop,” Hayseed begged again, lips trembling. Mako tuned him out, staring at the bright light that shone out from the back of Hayseed's throat. It was like his guts were the sun.

It was less about cleanliness and more about curiosity now. Who was the man he was looking at?

Mako pulled the mouth of the mask, hearing seams pop as he widened the gap. He just wanted to _see_ , he had to see.

Hay fell away and fluttered to the floor. Mako yanked his hand away.

Maggots filled the empty eye socket staring back at him. They spilled past his eyelid, running and squirming down his cheek. The other eye was pitch black with a glowing yellow iris, casting light across his terrified face.

“ _No_!” Hayseed shrieked, finally managing to escape Mako's grasp. “Leave me alone!” He yanked the mask back over his eyes, running with a lopsided gait out of the door and back towards the field. 

Ah. Mako made a mistake.

He was shaken by what he'd found, but not as badly as Hayseed was shaken by Mako seeing it. He had been selfish.

Guilt wasn't typically in his nature, but he felt it burning in his gut.

Mako stared out through the screen door, watching the hunched figure kneel in the dirt, frantically digging. Hayseed's shoulders heaved and shook.

He was searching for something.

 _Something_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't written a fic since 2013... hope you enjoy...!


	2. Disgusting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you thought you'd seen the last of me

The sky did not brighten.

Clouds kept the sun at bay even as noon came, and then later. Mako peered out the window every so often to see Hayseed still scrambling in the dirt, moving from one spot to another, leaving holes where he went. No wonder the soil was unfit for anything but weeds.

Mako tried to ignore the twitchy thing making a wreck of his yard by reading a book, comically small in his massive fingers. He found his attention difficult to control, the words becoming meaningless halfway down the page as he instead listened to the distant sounds of scratching and irritated exclamations that sometimes dissolved into sobs and unintelligible shouting. Well, this just wouldn't do.

Apologizing is something he should do, right? Mako had revealed Hayseed's face against his will, which Mako could personally understand getting upset about. He had his own reasons for being secretive about his appearance in public, and Hayseed probably had some as well. Initially he thought it might be best to let Hayseed have space to feel better, but it didn't seem to be doing any good if the distant cursing was anything to go by.

His eyes absentmindedly roamed a page in the book, too busy in thought to care about what it said. The bug-infested look of Hayseed's face confirmed Mako's thought that he was indeed a walking corpse, but... _how_? Mako had always wondered, but seeing just how _dead_ Hayseed was made it even more intriguing.

Mako snapped his book shut, letting out a heaving sigh. It's been too long since he first met the scarecrow for him to constantly question his existence. Some things just are.

The ragged couch creaked as his weight lifted from it. Mako pulled open the door and descended the steps of the porch, those similarly protesting from his massive weight.

The scrawny figure was hunched over, deathly still as Mako made his way over. Instead of peeking over its shoulder, it shuffled forwards a bit, as if to distance itself. The massive man crouched beside him, sighing before going into silence.

Hayseed was silent besides the creaking of his joints, refusing to look at Mako. It felt odd having him be quiet for longer than a few moments, but he eventually spoke up, voice creaky like a rusted hinge. “What do you want,” he muttered, not really a question.

“Sorry,” Mako rumbled, gently jostling Hayseed's back with one giant hand. “Didn't realize it was personal.”

Hayseed let out a sound of mild frustration, though more relaxed than before. “Told you not to.” He gave Mako a light smack with the back of his hand, shuffling to face further away from him. “Asshole.”

“Yeah,” the huge man grunted in acknowledgment, eyes resting on the hole Hayseed had been digging. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No. Fuck off,” the straw man garbled, starting to crawl away. He generally seemed quick to forgive, but this was obviously not something he'd be willing to let go of easily.

Mako sighed, grabbing the back of Hayseed's overalls and yanking him back to sit beside him. The scarecrow let out a shrill noise of protest but didn't fight him, still averting his eyes from the other man's face.

“Makes you wanna puke, don't it?”

The voice coming from Hayseed was uncharacteristically quiet, and Mako stared at him.

“What does?”

He grunted in annoyance, clicking his tongue. “Don't matter. Shut up.” His shoulders hunched defensively and his head hung low, giving Mako the cue to drop it. Such a fickle thing.

Mako knew it was risky to pursue any other personal train of speaking so soon after Hayseed's pouting fit, but certain questions once again were nagging at him. “...you really can't remember what happened?”

Finally Hayseed looked at him, but it was mostly in offended surprise and a signal that he was only moving on to be upset about something else. “Are you going on about when I was alive again? Who cares, anyway! I already told ya I don't remember, maybe I've always been right here!” He patted the dirt for emphasis. It felt like home enough for him.

“You've got an Australian accent,” Mako pointed out, putting a hand on the back of Hayseed's neck in an attempt at comfort with pressure. “You obviously came from _somewhere_.”

“Makin' fun of me just 'cause I talk different? Well, I don't care where I came from, I don't care.” His shrill tone softened as he spoke, Mako's thick fingers on his skin forcing him to relax. “You care more than I do. You like me or something?” He tittered, clearly thinking himself hilarious for the remark.

Mako simply grunted in response, rubbing circles on Hayseed's shoulder. His muscles were stiff like death, which Mako supposed was only fitting.

He sat in thought for a while, listening to the creaky purr emanating from his odd companion. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up again.

“I'm going into town for supplies. Wanna come?”

Hayseed shot him a look as if he'd just suggested that he was the Queen of England, eyes creaking incredulously. “You stupid, or blind?”

Mako shrugged, releasing Hayseed and putting his hands on his knees to help himself stand with a grunt. His legs were falling asleep. “What? I could probably get the vermin off your face, at least temporarily. Put something over the socket so it doesn't just look like a hole. It'll be fine, as long as you don't cause trouble.”

“Stupid _and_ blind!” Hayseed shrieked, slapping his hands against Mako's meaty leg. His voice was high-pitched and... excited? He seemed to be enthralled by the thought of going somewhere, but his excitement quickly dampened as his head swiveled to face the empty fields. “...I, can't,” Hayseed muttered, quiet. His voice dripped with a nervous, strange emotion. “I've got to stay here. I can't leave it.”

Mako's brow rose. He reached down to grab the straps of Hayseed's overalls and lifted him to a shaky standing position, resting his hand on the creature's shoulder to keep him stable. Hayseed didn't protest to being manhandled, instead leaning into Mako's palm. “Can't leave what? There's nothing here.”

Hayseed twitched, though his reaction was dulled by the soothing feeling of a hand on him. Those glowing eyes flickered, hesitating before twisting to look up at the massive man. “...how long? How long'll we be gone?”

Mako pursed his thick lips, thinking about Hayseed's refusal to stray from the fields for long. “Less than an hour.” Mako felt borderline uncomfortable with how kind he was being to this weird creature. He chalked it up to being because Hayseed was more like a pet than a person at this point and he was always an animal lover, and tried to push the discomfort away.

Hayseed looked at him, and then back at the empty field for a long moment. The light behind his mask flickered like a wavering flame. “...Okay,” he finally muttered, uncharacteristically quiet. Without waiting, he begins to limp back towards the house, Mako's eyes following his uneven gait.

The large man didn't want to dwell on his own curiosity, instead sighing a guttural breath and trailing behind his odd companion.

* * *

 “I don't _want_ to,” Hayseed complained, smacking at Mako's thick hands the instant he reached for the hem of his frayed mask.

Mako sighed, annoyance creeping into his deep voice. “Shut up. If you don't want to clean up, then you can stay here and I'll go by myself.” He knows there's no way Hayseed could get away with walking around in public with a creepy sack over his head, and he thought they'd been over this. He definitely didn't want to waste time on a lost cause.

The scarecrow twitched, huffing. “Fffffine. Fuck off. I'll do it meself.” Sitting on the kitchen counter (and making an absolute mess of it with his sheer dirtiness), his hand shot up into the bottom of his mask, tugging and pulling at something. Mako watched as a thick, frayed rope splattered with blood began to peer out from behind the burlap, Hayseed making sounds of discomfort as it loosened from it's place around his neck. He paused suddenly, his eye stalks snapping upwards to glower at Mako. “Excuse me, do you _mind_?”

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Mako shifted to look away, leaning his massive weight against the kitchen table. Still, though, he watched out of the corner of his eye, curiosity getting the best of him.

The rope came loose after a bit of tugging and fumbling, dropping to the floor in a heap with a flutter of hay. Hayseed started to pull the mask over his head with noticeable hesitation and Mako felt his heartbeat quicken in anticipation at seeing what was under there with better clarity. It felt almost perverse, like something private and secret.

The mask came off in one swoop and Hayseed gasped in the fresh air as if he'd never tasted it before, eyelids fluttering and squinting in the light. He shook his head, hay falling from his sparse blond hair. Maggots trickled from his empty eye socket, just the gross sight Mako remembered from before. His other eye's glowing iris flickered and glowed like a flame, lighting up the freckles peppered across his sharp face. There was decay on his dead flesh, but it was surprisingly faint- the edges of his mouth were grayed and his skin ghostly white, but nothing more aside from the bug infestation. His crooked teeth were grit into a scowl, golden ones glinting, and Mako only got a brief peek at them before hayseed clamped his hand over the lower half of his face, obscuring it.

“This is stupid, this ain't gonna work,” Hayseed suddenly fumed, bushy brows lowering as he sent a glare at Mako.

Mako took that as his cue that he was free to get closer, and he rumbled out a reply, sauntering over. “It will if you shut up. Get down from there and lean over the sink.” Mako paused, straightening up. “...your face. Put your face over the sink.”

He caught a peek of a crooked smile on Hayseed's face between his fingers as the scarecrow tittered an uneven giggle. “You want me to whaaat? Kinky!”

“Shut the fuck up,” the man grumbled, giving Hayseed's back a firm slap. At least the creature looked a bit less jittery, even if it was at Mako's expense.

Still tittering, Hayseed did as he was told, although his ungloved hand still shielded his face from view. What the hell was with that?

Mako uncapped the bottle of hydrogen peroxide that sat on the counter. He was no doctor (although at one point he'd wanted to be, and he was pretty sure hydrogen peroxide isn't actually good for you), but this should at least temporarily rid them of the bug problem. Quietly, he mused about whether or not it would be too risky to straight-up pour insect poison in there later.

He leaned over the scrawny fellow, brushing the sparse hairs out of the way of the insect-ridden eye. Hayseed tilted to allow Mako a better vantage point, but his hand remained as a shield.

Carefully, Mako poured the chemical into the socket, bubbling and fizzling quickly beginning to swirl down the drain. Hayseed gasped, hand darting away from his face to clench onto the side of the sink, shaking.

“Hurts?” Mako questioned, which earned him a small shake of the corpse's head.

“Nah... it feels fuckin' weird, though,” he replied, calm but obviously a bit uneasy.

Instead of focusing on Hayseed's delicate feelings, Mako watched the insects squirm and writhe, falling with the bubbling chemical away from the raw flesh. Well, it was working. Mako turned on the sink, using water to force them out, and Hayseed muttered something unintelligible at the odd sensation of having unfamiliar substances in his eye socket.

After a few repeats of this, Mako accepted that this was the best it was going to get, easing Hayseed away from the sink and grabbing a hand towel to wipe the water and gunk away. The scarecrow hissed, slapping Mako's hands away and taking the towel for himself, turning away and wiping it on his own accord.

“They're still in there,” the large man sighed, rinsing out the filthy sink. “But there's less. They're not pouring out of your face. That's something.”

Hayseed let out a _Tch_ , still not facing him. He was silent for a long moment before speaking in the smallest voice Mako had heard from him yet, “Thanks.”

Mako shot him a glance and grunted out a sound of acknowledgment, shutting off the sink and fixing his attention back on the creature. “You can wear those overalls, I don't have pants that'll fit you. Just- get rid of the ropes, for Christ's sake. I'll get you a shirt and sunglasses, that should...” He sizes up the smaller man, planning in his head. Yeah, this'll work just fine as long as he hides all those conspicuous stitches.

“This won't work,” Hayseed breaks into his thoughts, shooting him a one-eyed glare with the rest of his face hidden by the towel.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Mako growled, perpetual frown deepening. This was getting tiresome, with Hayseed being a constant downer about his plan.

Hayseed looked at him like he'd suggested the sky was green and let out an awful, unhappy laugh. His stump of an arm gestured at him wildly like he'd said the joke of the century. “Wow, really? You act like you haven't seen my face!”

Leaning forward slightly, the huge man pointed a finger at him with annoyance. “What's the deal with you and your face? You act like the-”

“It's _disgusting_!”

Mako's hand dropped to his side as he watched the scarecrow pace away from him, thin shoulders heaving with his breathing. ...Really? This was a self esteem issue? Hayseed, who happily eats bugs and covers himself in dirt, has an image problem?

“Seriously! I have to spell it out for you? The bugs, n' the stitches n' everything- the ugly part doesn't matter, that's probably always been a thing for this face! It could make people scream and shit themselves, and you really can't take the _hint_ that I-”

Hayseed's breath puffed out of him as he was yanked back by the strap of his overalls, finding himself face to face with the mammoth of a man that was his housemate. Those dull eyes pierced him and the deeply-sat frown was just above Hayseed's own face.

“It's not disgusting. So shut up.”

Hayseed was released and he fell back to his normal hunched posture, staring at Mako's back as he turned and headed for the closet for spare clothes for him. His mouth was slightly open, towel having fallen to the floor in that brief scuffle. He blinked, trying to compose himself, shuffling in place momentarily, peg leg scraping against the wood floor.

Hayseed was, for the first time, not sure what to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll update again soon. sorry for disappearing for... 9 months?? christ. my bad.


End file.
